Western armed forces have struggled to fill their ranks to deter Russia

“WE NEED TO mobilise,” Emmanuel Macron, the president of France, said on November 27th as he introduced a new scheme for voluntary service in the armed forces almost three decades after France phased out conscription in the 1990s. “The only way to avoid danger is to prepare for it.”

The French effort, which aims to recruit around 3,000 volunteers next year and as many as 50,000 a year by 2035, is but the latest by Western armed forces that are trying to fill their ranks and bulk up after decades of shrinking since the end of the cold war. Although France has ruled out reintroducing mandatory national service, several other European countries have turned to it, including Latvia, Lithuania and Sweden. Others are inching closer to doing so. Germany’s government recently proposed the compulsory registration of all 18-year-old men as potential recruits.

The main reason for this newfound urgency can be found in the trenches of Ukraine. After the end of the cold war, Western countries sat back to enjoy the dividends of peace. Few, Finland being a notable exception, saw any need to maintain large standing armies backed by tens of thousands of reservists. America’s rapid destruction of Iraq’s army during the first Gulf war (1990-91) suggested that lean, professional forces with superior technology could defeat much larger foes. Yet Western generals have not failed to notice the staggering casualties being taken by infantry soldiers on both sides in the war in Ukraine. If faced with similar losses, the highly trained armies fielded by most Western countries would very rapidly be ground down. The lesson is that far more troops will be needed during high-intensity conflicts, says Edward Arnold of the Royal United Services Institute (RUSI), a think-tank in London.

The second reason is a long-running recruitment crisis that has left many Western forces unable to fill even their smaller armies. The American army missed its recruitment targets in 2022 and 2023 by 25%, equating to about 15,000 active-duty soldiers per year. The Pentagon called 2023 the “toughest year” since the inception of an all-volunteer force in 1973. Britain, meanwhile, commands around 137,000 regular troops, its smallest number in 181 years. Canada, Australia, Japan and New Zealand have all been struggling to recruit enough regulars.

Some think this is because young people are more individualist and focused on their careers than previous generations. Motivations for enlistment are a blend of patriotic ideals and pragmatic concerns, reckons Anthony King of the University of Exeter. But he frets about the erosion of a sense of national duty, as well as a scepticism of nationalism that dates back to the 1970s, a time of heightened anti-war sentiment. There is evidence to support this view. Polling in 45 countries by Gallup International last year showed that fewer people were willing to fight for their country than ten years earlier.

Yet instead of berating would-be recruits for their attitudes, defence ministries would do well to examine their own shortcomings. A closer look at recruitment data shows that there are more young people willing to serve their country than there are billets to accommodate them. The problem is that only a minority are suitable—most are too fat, drugged-up or depressed to serve (see chart 1). Only 23% of Americans aged 17-24 met the requirements to join up based on their weight, medical conditions and previous drug usage, according to a Pentagon study, based on pre-pandemic data. Alas, things have only worsened since. Recruiters in Denmark, Sweden and Britain turned down around 60% of applicants.

Yet this probably says less about the fitness of the young than it does about the bureaucratic obstacles Western forces have put in the way of them signing up. Some medical disqualifications bordered on the absurd. Acne, eczema or a broken leg in childhood have kept out would-be recruits, even as active soldiers who developed such conditions were allowed to stay on. One Australian minister succinctly called these rules “stupid”. Researchers from RAND Corporation, a think-tank, noted that anyone treated as a teenager for attention-deficit hyperactivity disorder (ADHD), which affects around 10% of children, would have to get a waiver in order to join the army. So would many of the roughly one-third of American 18-year-olds who said they had used marijuana at least once in the previous year (though very occasional use is overlooked and presumably many recruits lie).

Particularly galling was RAND’s finding that the demand for waivers is pointless. Although recruits who came in with a minor criminal record for marijuana possession were slightly more likely to be kicked out of the army on a drug charge, those recruits performed better than average in other areas. “Recruits with a history of marijuana [use] were just as likely as other recruits to complete their first term and make sergeant, and they were less likely to leave the army for health or performance reasons,” RAND reported.

Britain, Canada and Australia have begun slashing these restrictions. They promise to apply more discretion when considering cases of ADHD, asthma or allergies. Yet the process of applying for a waiver is often more daunting than an assault course. In Britain, which outsources recruitment to a private firm, some applicants have waited for four years. In America between 61% and 73% of waivers were granted in the period 2016-20, but long wait times often resulted in highly qualified, enthusiastic candidates seeking employment elsewhere.

One approach is to close the eligibility gap. In 2022 the US Army instituted a preparation course, where willing recruits go through 30-90 days of physical training and schooling to help them meet the minimum standard required to sign up. More than 51,000 trainees have joined the army through this Future Soldier Preparatory Course, according to data provided by the US Army Recruiting Command. The US Navy has followed suit with its own conditioning initiative.

Yet instead of raising would-be recruits to the required standard, some armed forces are lowering their standards. In some cases, such as ending bans on tattoos, beards and moustaches, this makes sense. But others seem short-sighted. New Zealand and Canada, for instance, have reduced some of the intellectual requirements such as high-school diplomas and aptitude tests. And some, including Britain, are making fitness tests easier.

Tinkering with standards can open the government to accusations that it is compromising troop quality, says Katherine Kuzminski of CNAS, a Washington-based think-tank. Hence governments tread with caution. Most armed forces insist that despite these changes, troop quality remains top-notch. But British military officers privately grumble about slipping fitness standards. This has consequences: fewer British recruits are making it through successive stages of training, possibly because they are coming in with a lower level of fitness, motivation or resilience.

Armed forces are trying to compete better in the job market. Last year British troops had their biggest pay rise in two decades. Sign-up bonuses are generous, too. Housing, health care, college-tuition fees, relocation and mortgage financing are all part of the deal. The message is clear: ask not what you can do for your country, but what your country can do for you.

These changes are paying off. This year America’s army met its recruitment target four months ahead of schedule, a remarkable turnaround in just a couple of years. In the 12 months to October 1st the British armed forces increased in size for the first time since 2021, albeit only by a few hundred people (see chart 2). Applications increased by 44%. The German Bundeswehr also reported a recruitment uptick of 28%. Canada and Australia met recruitment targets for the first time in over a decade. European countries that allow lottery-based conscription, such as Denmark, Latvia and Lithuania, have seen their armies filled mostly with volunteers.

The problem, however, is that people are leaving the armed forces almost as fast as they join. One in four new recruits drops out of the Bundeswehr within six months of joining; in Belgium, 44% reportedly leave within a year. The promise of surfing on a tropical beach soon gives way to the reality of sleeping in the mud. Of particular concern is the loss of people with scarce skills. RUSI noted last year that record numbers of officers were leaving the British army and that the number of pilots had dropped to “crisis” levels.

Among the reasons cited by RUSI for the outflow are the difficulties faced by officers in having a normal family life, since many have to change posts every 18-24 months. Many have spouses who work; but frequent moves make it difficult for them to pursue their careers. This inability to retain skilled people does not bode well for Western countries that have ambitious plans to balloon the platoons. ■